


The Pureblood Regime

by originella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU Deathly Hallows, Age Difference, Animagus, Animagus Hermione Granger, Battle of the Astronomy Tower, Bottom Harry Potter, Dumbledore is alive, EWE, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, May/December Relationship, Mpreg, No Battle of Hogwarts, No Horcruxes, Remus is dead, Sirimione - Freeform, Teenage Pregnancy, Top Severus Snape, snarry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 22:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originella/pseuds/originella
Summary: During the Battle of the Astronomy Power, Severus Snape broke free from his bond from Voldemort, and joined the Order of the Phoenix to help Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. Hermione and Ron came together in the tragedy, but could never make their relationship work.Seventh-year. Hermione is in love with a dead man. Ron is focused on Quidditch and joining the Auror Department after graduation. Harry is sneaking around with Severus. Dumbledore agrees with newly-elected Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, that the Death Eaters still on the lose must be dealt with but, in the meantime, the Golden Trio must be kept safe. Which is why the Pureblood Regime must be reenacted, to ensure the protection of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.
Relationships: Alicia Spinnet/Fred Weasley, Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Audrey Weasley/Percy Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Mr. Granger/Mrs. Granger, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Nymphadora Tonks/Ron Weasley, Past Ron Weasley/Lavender Brown - Relationship, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Sirius Black/Hermione Granger, past Ginny Weasley/Dean Thomas, past Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Interfering Old Wizards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amistem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amistem/gifts).



Hermione set aside her charms homework and sighed; Professor Flitwick had asked them to write about their Patronus animals, and why they thought they got the ones they did. Her otter had changed to that of a dog, and Hermione wouldn’t allow herself to fully comprehend the reasons why that was. Swallowing, she picked up her quill again, writing another sentence for her conclusion, looking up as the portrait hole opened, and Harry and Ron stepped inside, filthy from Quidditch practice.

She didn’t really have to study in there, but she knew that Harry and Ron had experienced so much upheaval of late, as had they all, so it was better for her to do her revisions there. She affixed a smile onto her lips as the pair approached. The haunted look in the green and blue eyes stared back at her, one that they couldn’t shake at all, no matter how much fun they’d attempted to engage in.

“Does Hufflepuff stand a chance?” Hermione asked, mentioning the final game of term, which was due to take place in one-weeks’ time.

“None,” Harry confirmed, hovering above the couch. “Do Ron and I have time to shower and change before dinner?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Please. You both are seventeen now. Surely you know how long it takes for you to shower.”

“That’s not fair, ‘Mione,” Ron whined, causing Hermione to purse her lips; she had little to no patience for Ron’s antics nowadays. “Water-fights are required—”

“If you’re going to launch into yet another needless lecture about how water-fights are a required right of passage, you needn’t bother,” she huffed, pulling her potions homework towards her, and caught Harry’s flush at her grip upon _Advanced Potion Making_. “Yes. The pair of you have plenty of time to shower, but best get a move on.”

Ron grinned. “You’re the best, ‘Mione!” he crowed, dashing past them both and running up the staircase to the seventh-year boys’ dorm.

Harry turned back to Hermione and sighed. “‘Mione?”

She looked up from her work. “Yes?”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” he asked.

Hermione swallowed. “About what?”

“Something’s going on,” he said softly. “I’m not wrong about thinking that, am I?”

Hermione sighed. “I don’t think you’re wrong,” she whispered. “Headmaster Dumbledore hasn’t been this distant towards you since fifth-year.” She shook her head. “Don’t think too much on it, Harry, please. It’s only been six months since the attempt on his life, and everything else that happened,” she said.

Harry nodded. “I know. I...I’m afraid...”

“Don’t let it show,” Hermione told him. “Just because one duty is done, doesn’t mean you won’t be signed up for another.”

Harry sighed. “That’s what I’m so afraid of,” he muttered, before turning on his heel and making his way up to the dorm himself.

Hermione concentrated as much as she could upon her work, managing to finish the remainder of her potions assignment before Harry and Ron returned to the common room, and was scanning her Arithmancy text for any new ideas. They made their way to the Great Hall immediately, Hermione retaining her hold upon her Arithmancy book, with several other students grouping around them as they went. Once down the stairs and inside the hall, they took their customary places at the Gryffindor House table, waving at Neville just beside them, Ginny next to Hermione, Luna at the Ravenclaw table, and Draco at the Slytherin one. It was not lost on Hermione that Neville was making eyes at Luna, nor that Draco was giving the same expression to Ginny, and she smiled to herself, hoping that everything would work out between the would-be couples.

“How is Draco?” Hermione asked casually, serving herself some roast chicken.

Ginny flushed becomingly at that as she picked at her salad. “Very well. Mum and Dad have already invited him to the Burrow for Christmas.”

“Things are becoming serious, then?”

Ginny smiled, catching at an olive and a lettuce leaf. “Yes, I think so,” she said, looking around, before she said, “He’s a really brilliant snogger—”

Ron choked from across the table. “Bloody hell, Ginny!” he squawked. “You’ve nearly put me off my dinner!” he moaned, pushing his mashed potatoes and peas around his plate.

“What did you ever see in him?” Ginny asked, amused.

Hermione clicked her tongue, pouring some gravy onto her chicken, before helping herself to some boiled potatoes. “No idea,” she responded.

Ginny patted her arm. “Nothing is for certain, not anymore,” she said, her eyes sweeping upwards towards the head table, and her eyebrows came together at that. “Merlin, I wonder what is transpiring now...”

“What do you mean, Ginny?” Harry asked, catching onto their conversation and following her gaze, where they could plainly see Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape in deep conversation. “Perhaps the governors are at it again, or Kingsley sent an owl before dinner...”

“Looks a bit more complicated than that,” Hermione said softly. “The headmaster looks pleased as punch, whereas Professor McGonagall looks worried, and Professor Snape looks...”

“He’s scared,” Harry said softly, and neither Hermione or Ginny made any move to disagree with him there. “I’ve studied his face often enough to know his emotions.”

“Sure, Harry,” Ginny said with a nod. “We believe you.” She gave a small smile then, turning and looking down the long table, where Dean and Seamus were cuddling. “Just like the look on Dean’s face before he told me that he thought we’d be better off as friends. The poor thing actually thought I’d be angry with him!”

“He still broke your heart!” Ron thundered heatedly.

Ginny sighed. “Yes, well...”

“And Malfoy was there, quick to pick up the pieces,” he growled.

Ginny slammed her palm onto the table. “When are you going to get it through your thick head, Ron? I am crazy about Draco, as he is about me! Nothing is going to change that!” she cried out, her voice breaking at the end, before her fork clattered down onto her plate and she got to her feet, dashing out of there with a sob, Draco immediately following in her wake.

Hermione sighed. “And you wondered why things didn’t last?” she asked.

Ron turned red to his ears. “That was because...”

“I know why it didn’t, Ron,” Hermione said, stabbing at her chicken, and doing her best to eat the rest of her dinner quickly. Once she had done, she barely touched one of the puddings on offer that night, despite it being her favorite, Arctic Roll. Pushing her plate away from her after barely eating a quarter of it, she picked up her massive tome again, reading about the theory behind Arithmancy, in the hopes of calming herself down.

Dinner was slowly but surely winding down, and Hermione was beginning to feel the affects of the day. Even though NEWTs were months away, she was constantly keeping odd hours in order to revise for them. Their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a joke, although not nearly as bad as Lockhart, and she wished that Harry could simply take over the class. She knew quite well that he wanted the position after graduation, in order to be closer to a certain potions professor. As for Ron, he wanted to be an Auror, and was hoping that he passed his NEWTs in order to receive a coveted spot in Auror training. As for Hermione, she was plenty confused about what it was she wanted. She had been sheltered so long—first by her mother and father, and then by the protective walls of Hogwarts—that, even though she spent plenty of time reading about the world she was now a part of, she felt woefully unprepared when it came to a final decision, a decision that would affect the rest of her life. Her one desire, a desire that she had kept a great secret from both Harry and Ron, could potentially ruin everything. And besides, it wasn’t as if it could ever come to pass, now that the one thing, the one person, she truly wanted was completely out of her reach...

Hermione didn’t think anything of it when Professor McGonagall stopped them in the corridor just outside the Great Hall, telling them that Headmaster Dumbledore needed to see the three of them right away. Ron shrugged, while Harry informed their Head of House that they would, of course, accompany her to the headmaster’s office. Off they went, with both boys relieved that they had eaten their dinner already; Hermione merely rolled her eyes, her attention gravitating towards the heavy tome beneath her arm, _Numerology and Grammatica_ , which Harry had purchased for her the Christmas before, after misplacing her copy during the Triwizard Tournament their fourth-year, and having to rely on the library’s copy.

Things had changed drastically since the trio had begun their seventh-year at Hogwarts; for one thing, Severus Snape had been hailed a hero, after thwarting the Death Eaters last June, fighting them off with the members of the Order of the Phoenix, with Harry delivering the fatal Killing Curse upon Voldemort, banishing him from their world forever. Minister Fudge had been ousted, and Rufus Scrimgeour, who would have normally taken up the title of Minister of Magic, as he was the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had stepped aside for Kingsley Shacklebolt. Kingsley had proved to be a capable minister, reversing the stigmas connected to werewolves, vampires, and the like, with landslide votes within the Wizengamot, although the pair were saddened that Remus Lupin wouldn’t see it, as he had been one of the casualties at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.

Upon arrival at the gargoyle, Professor McGonagall straightened up and said, almost in a breathless tone, “Cauldron Cakes,” and the stone being promptly jumped aside. “The headmaster is awaiting you three upstairs,” she said gently, although Hermione could detect a sadness in her eyes. “Good luck.”

Hermione followed the boys, both seventeen, and sighed to herself; at eighteen, she was the oldest of the bunch, while Ron was the tallest and strongest, and Harry the best at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch. Pursing her lips, her mouth promptly fell open as the door opened automatically for them, and three people stood around the room, who were all speaking in hurried tones to the headmaster.

“Sirius?!” Harry yelled out, stumbling over the threshold, tears falling down his face as he rushed forward, ignoring Severus Snape and Tonks, who immediately moved out of the way. He was grabbed up by the man and clutched in a massive bear hug, and Harry yanked himself back, staring up at the man. “But...how? Why? You went through the veil fifth-year, and I thought that you were...”

Hermione then felt as if her entire world had fallen apart all over again. She felt cold all over, and she trembled at the sight of Sirius Black embracing her best friend. Her knees knocked together as she shook, and she mentally cursed herself to pull herself together...

“Your godfather was kept in stasis behind the veil, Potter, until the magical world could assist in bringing him out,” Severus Snape told him, his voice not nearly as hard, now that he didn’t have dual roles to play, which brought Hermione back to earth.

“Snape is correct,” Sirius said softly, and Hermione was amazed to hear no animosity from either wizard. “The Department of Unspeakables managed to drag me out a week previous, and I’ve been in St. Mungo’s recovering,” he went on.

“We didn’t want to rush in and tell you right away,” Tonks put in gently. “The department had no idea if Sirius was brain damaged. The mediwizards and witches, plus the healers, worked on him as much as they could.”

“I remember falling into the veil, and, the next thing I knew, I was waking up in St. Mungo’s, asking if you were all right,” Sirius went on. “Mad-Eye was there to explain everything to me, of course. As Deputy Minister, I was more than pleased that he was able to make such a call to me, an invalid, in a hospital bed...”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Severus told him with a genial smirk. “Invalids drool. You only do so while puttering around as Padfoot.”

“Now, now, boys,” the headmaster said before a row could break out, and shook his head at the pair of them, before turning to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “I’ll bet the three of you are speculating as to why you’ve been brought here.”

“It wasn’t to reunite with Sirius?” Harry asked, still standing close to his godfather.

“No, Harry,” said Dumbledore gently, “although I’m quite sure you’ll get to see more of him, now that the Christmas holidays are approaching.”

“I’ll live with him?” Harry asked, and Hermione could see how excited her best friend was, and smiled over at him.

“No, Harry,” the headmaster said, “although, now that Riddle is gone, and you’ve reached your majority, you need not return to Privet Drive.”

“Then, what’s going on here?” Ron demanded, crossing his arms.

“Ronald!” Hermione hissed, shaking her head at him; after his fiasco with Lavender, she and Ron had attempted being a couple after the incident last June, but soon found that they were better off as friends. “Please. Don’t be rude.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” the headmaster said, his eyes twinkling, in a way they’d not done since she and a reformed Draco Malfoy had been announced as that years’ Head Boy and Head Girl respectively. “Anyhow, my reasoning for calling you all here was to inform you that you need a different form of protection.”

“What kind of protection, headmaster?” Harry asked.

The elderly man sighed. “No doubt you’ve seen the issues of _The Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_ over the summer, as well as since the start-of-term...”

Ron’s eyes darkened. “We’ve seen them.”

“We have,” Hermione responded softly. “How Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the rest of the surviving Death Eaters escaped Azkaban again, and are now on the run...”

“But what does that have to do with us?” Harry asked. “Surely the Hit Wizards and the Aurors are close to finding them...”

“I’m afraid they’ve remained elusive,” Tonks said softly; she was in training to take over as Head of the Auror Department, but felt that she was lacking in some way, considering that they’d always seemed to be one step behind the evasive Death Eaters.

“Because of this,” Dumbledore continued, “the three of you will be at the top of the list for the Death Eaters hoped-for eradication process. As such, Kingsley has reenacted an old law, wherein younger wizards and witches will seek protection from those meeting in power to them, or of a higher Blood Status, to ensure protection...”

“The Pureblood Regime,” Hermione whispered, shuddering, having read many texts pertaining to History of Magic about it, about how young virgins were sent off to wealthy families, raped, and then left to die as their magic was siphoned off... “Why would the minister agree to such a thing?!” she demanded. “It’s archaic, and it’s just...wrong!”

“I knew she wouldn’t take it well,” Severus uttered softly.

“Now, now, Severus,” Dumbledore said, holding up his hand, before turning back to Hermione with a serious expression. “It is true, Miss Granger, that there weren’t protections in place to ensure the safety of the younger of the bonded pair in the past. However, Kingsley has amended the law to ensure maximum safety for all involved. No magic will be stolen; rather, it will be combined to ensure safety for both the bonded pair, and any heirs that are brought forth from the union,” he said gently. “Do not despair. As it happens, I have documents from all your families, which were drawn up years ago, selecting someone for you to marry...”

“What?!” Ron sputtered. “Marry? But we’re still in school...”

“You will take the Christmas holidays to become married and properly acquainted with one another, while the Easter holidays will act as a short honeymoon. You will graduate two months after that, and will have plenty of time to settle into married life.”

Hermione gripped at her tome so tightly that her knuckles were becoming white. “And... And who have our parents chosen for us?” she whispered.

Dumbledore smiled, clearly pleased that she was coming around to the idea, and summoned three inked parchments towards him. “From Lily and James Potter, to be presented to their son, Harry, when he has reached his majority,” he said, reading from the first. “Harry, your betrothed is to be Severus Snape.”

Harry flushed and smiled at the man, while Severus ruefully returned the smile; only Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the headmaster had known that Harry and the potions professor had harbored feelings for one another since their Occlumency lessons, but had not acted on them completely until after the events of the astronomy tower. “I accept,” Harry said, and Sirius sighed, obviously looking annoyed, but nevertheless pushed Harry towards Severus, who pulled him close, and kissed his forehead.

Dumbledore smiled at the exchange and pulled the second piece of parchment towards him with a nod. “From Arthur and Molly Weasley, to be presented to their son, Ronald, when he has reached his majority,” he said, before looking up at Ron. “Ron, your betrothed is to be Nymphadora Tonks.”

“Don’t call me Nymphadora,” Tonks growled, her hair, and her face, turning red, before she peeked over at Ron. “I’m sorry if this isn’t...”

Ron promptly stepped forward, taking her hand and kissing it. “I’ve always admired you, Tonks,” he told her, smiling. “And, since I want to become an Auror, and we both hated Riddle, we have more than enough in common. I think it’ll be a successful match.”

Tonks’s cheeks turned a flattering pink. “Thank you, Ron,” she replied.

Dumbledore pulled up the final parchment, and Hermione’s heart entered her throat as he read the scrawl upon it. “From Colin and Demeter Granger, to be presented to their daughter, Hermione, when she has reached her majority—in the Muggle world, that age is eighteen,” the headmaster informed the group. “Hermione, your betrothed is to be Sirius Black.”

Hermione’s knees buckled, her joints quivering at the prospect. “But... But, I am a Muggleborn, and Sirius is a Pureblood,” she whispered. “Surely there’s some mistake...”

“Since you are a Savior of the Wizarding World,” Dumbledore said, as Sirius slowly came to stand beside Hermione, “Kingsley believed that an exception should be made.” The man peered at Hermione from his half-moon spectacles. “Do you hold disapproval towards your parents’ choice of husband for you, Miss Granger?” he asked.

Hermione bit her tongue, knowing that, if she wanted to appeal to the Wizengamot, Kingsley was likely to listen to her. However, as much as she hated to admit it, she had found Sirius attractive from her third-year, and had been devastated when he had fallen through the veil, never allowing her to reveal her feelings. As she ran her fingertips along the spine of her tome, she whispered, “No. None whatsoever, headmaster.”

“Excellent!” Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together. “Well, as it is a Friday night, perhaps Harry and Severus could speak at length in the dungeons. Mr. Weasley, you have permission to Floo to Tonks’s flat until curfew. And as for you, Miss Granger,” he continued, “perhaps you may show Sirius your own quarters.”

“Certainly, headmaster,” Hermione said softly, watching as Tonks and Ron chattered as they walked towards the Floo, and Severus promptly ushered a flushing Harry out of the headmaster’s office. She turned to Sirius, raising her eyebrows when he offered her his hand, and accepted the gesture. “My rooms are a bit away,” she said, and guided him out of the office. Once they were down the stairs in the deserted corridor, Hermione kept her mouth shut all the way to the portrait of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, Weaving, and War Strategy, who guarded her rooms. “Good evening, Athena,” she said, smiling up at the maiden with long red hair and blue eyes, who kept an owl upon her shoulder in the warm woods she was painted in.

“Good evening, Hermione,” Athena said with a smile, and turned towards Sirius. “Well, hello there,” she said, grinning down at him. “And who might you be?”

“Sirius Black,” Sirius told her, “Hermione’s fiancé.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Athena said, clapping her hands, before she turned to Hermione. “Were you wanting to go in, then, dear?”

“Manteia,” Hermione said softly.

Athena smiled, spreading her hands as the portrait popped open, thus permitting the couple to step inside the room.

As soon as the portrait closed behind them, Hermione dropped Sirius’s hand and crossed the sitting room, arriving in the small kitchenette attached to it. “Something to drink?” she asked, as she set her tome down upon the counter, not looking at Sirius.

“Gillywater, if you’ve got it,” Sirius said, and Hermione summoned the bottle from the cooling cabinet, plus a pair of glasses. Once filled, she banished one towards the man, and leaned up against the wall, staring into the clear liquid. “I didn’t know, you know...”

Hermione peeked up at the man, not wholly trusting her words, but also knowing that they had to communicate sooner or later. “Didn’t know what?”

“I didn’t know that Tonks and I would be getting paired up tonight as well,” Sirius said softly, as he sipped his drink. “I mean, I knew that Harry was betrothed to Severus, and suspected that Albus would inform them of the betrothal tonight...”

Hermione swirled the Gillywater in her glass. “And the rest of us?”

“I thought he brought me in so that I could stand as Harry’s family, as well as reunite with my godson,” Sirius said softly. “As for Tonks, I thought that Albus would want a representative from the ministry to be there.”

“And what about Ron and me?” she asked softly.

“Perhaps he wanted you there to witness the betrothal of your best friend?” Sirius asked, lowering his glass and spreading his hands.

“Surely you knew about the dangers, what with the Death Eaters on the loose again, and Ron’s and my connection to Harry,” Hermione whispered. “I would never regret being Harry’s friend—I consider him a brother, as I do Ron, and I love them both. However, I can’t fathom why you wouldn’t at least think...”

“Mad-Eye informed me of the return of the Pureblood Regime,” Sirius admitted. “However, I believed you would be paired up with someone...younger...”

Hermione’s brows pulled together at that. “You are the same age as Professor Snape, and Harry is nearly a year younger than I am...”

“Don’t remind me,” Sirius said softly. “I am over two months older than Severus, which puts me at nearly twenty years older than you...”

“Wizards age differently,” Hermione said.

Sirius scoffed. “That is true. However, I know that you cannot possibly be happy with the match presented to you...”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she sipped her Gillywater. “Please,” she said. “You heard that Ron and I tried for a relationship?”

Sirius looked uncomfortable. “I did hear something about that, yes...”

“It didn’t work, couldn’t work, because we weren’t right for the other,” Hermione told him. “It was too safe with Ron, too familiar. I need a challenge when it comes to a relationship, Sirius, and you seem pretty complex to me...”

Sirius laughed. “I have been looking for an excuse to keep Kreacher here full-time. I know you wouldn’t like to live somewhere with house-elves.”

Hermione gave him a small smile. “You’d be right.”

“I also know that you loathed Divination your third-year, so much so that you dropped the class, and it’s the only class you ever dropped.”

“How would you...? Harry,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“Exactly. Which is why I find that you use the word that directly translates to _divination_ for your personal quarters to be utterly fascinating.”

“It is because I don’t enjoy it,” Hermione explained. “People who break into your rooms will usually attribute something you like to be its password. This way, they will have to know me quite well in order to guess at what I despise.”

“I always thought Trelawney was a fraud,” Sirius put in. “Harmless, but a fraud.”

“Precisely,” Hermione said, finding herself grinning at her future husband. “What was your favorite class while you were here?”

“Defense,” Sirius admitted.

Hermione giggled. “Of course. Perhaps we can have a duel sometime.”

“I would like that,” Sirius said with a nod.

Hermione worried her lower lip then. “The headmaster mentioned something about our bond protecting heirs...”

Sirius sighed. “In old families, providing an heir and a spare is required. Unfortunately, even though I am Head of the House of Black, I cannot undo the magicks that put the proclamation there. However, blood adoption is quite lucrative, so perhaps...”

“No,” Hermione said quickly. “I mean, yes, we can adopt as well, but I always fancied carrying children,” she said softly. “I know that I’m not much to look at, but you’re...”

Sirius slowly stepped forward then, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione’s ear. “How can you even say that?” he whispered. “Not only are you the brightest witch of your age, Hermione, but you are also stunningly beautiful.”

Hermione found that she couldn’t call back the small gasp which escaped her throat, and she tilted her head, so that it rested in Sirius’s palm. “Buckbeak looked white when the moonlight hit him,” she whispered.

Sirius smiled. “What?”

Hermione mentally scolded herself, but continued, “In Muggle fairy tales, a damsel in distress is frequently rescued by a knight, who comes in riding a white horse,” she explained. “A horse is an Abraxan without wings, or a unicorn without its—”

Sirius chuckled. “I know what a horse is, Hermione.”

Hermione chided herself. “Right,” she said. “Anyhow, the knight will save the damsel, and they ride away on the horse, to live happily ever after...”

“So, you’re saying, that you believed me to resemble a knight?”

Hermione’s teeth dragged upon her lower lip. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You were attracted to me from the time you were fourteen?”

“Yes,” she whispered again.

“I will admit, I did find you attractive, Hermione, but did not become attracted to you until you were sixteen, when you spent the Christmas holidays at Grimmauld,” he said, and slowly dragged the pad of his thumb along her lip, freeing it from the confines of her teeth. “I thought I’d be damned for it, but now... Now, I see it is not so wrong...”

“If my parents betrothed us, then no, Sirius, it is not wrong. Besides, I’m eighteen. No one can take me away from you, be it Wizarding or Muggle authorities.”

Sirius smiled. “I am pleased about that.”

Hermione lowered her eyes. “Ron wanted...while we were dating but... I couldn’t,” she said softly, melting into Sirius’s embrace. “Even though you weren’t here anymore, I thought it wouldn’t be fair to you...”

Sirius embraced Hermione, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We shall save our first kiss for our wedding day, Hermione, and, for the rest, for our wedding night...”

“Shall you contact Molly, to take charge of cleaning Grimmauld?”

“No,” Sirius said, pulling back and gazing down at Hermione. “I won’t have my wife walking around a house that is a virtual death trap, with a portrait of my mother, who would scream abuse whenever you take a step. No. No, Albus has given me my fortune back, and I am in the process of selling Grimmauld, and we may find a proper home.”

“Might I go with you to look at the properties?” Hermione asked.

Sirius smiled. “Yes, of course, you may. I have secured meetings at Gringotts, and I am staying at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. All the properties are wizarding, so we may have a Floo Network... I, of course, will ensure that we have a reliable owl, and you should know that I would never bar you from seeing your family, Harry, Ron, or the other Weasleys...”

“I am also close with Draco now, we all are. As for further friends, I adore Ginny, Ron’s only sister, plus Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood.”

“All exceptional friends,” Sirius said with approval.

Hermione turned then as a small meow distracted her, and she immediately smiled when her beloved Crookshanks sauntered into the room. “Don’t be rude, love,” she said, squeezing Sirius’s hands before letting him go, and crossed the room, scooping up her feline companion, and turning back towards her betrothed. “You remember Crookshanks, don’t you?”

Sirius’s beautiful blue eyes immediately lit up as he stepped closer, and Hermione was shocked when Crookshanks launched himself out of her arms and into Sirius’s. “He seems to remember me,” the man said lightly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he gently scratched the feline hybrid behind one ear, and Crookshanks shut his eyes, meowing indulgently. “He was a delight, both times he was at Grimmauld...”

“I couldn’t leave him,” Hermione said quietly.

Sirius looked up at her. “As if I would never ask you to do so.”

Hermione smiled at that. “Good. He is like my own child, and I treat him like the little prince that he is.”

“As well you should,” Sirius said with a nod, nuzzling Crookshanks beneath his chin. “I hear that cats of all kinds can become temperamental when they’re not given their dues.”

Hermione giggled as Crookshanks playfully nipped at Sirius’s fingers. “Be gentle, darling,” she told him softly. “Have you spoken to my parents yet?”

“I’ve not,” Sirius told her. “Once I was cleared to leave St. Mungo’s, Mad-Eye escorted me directly to Albus’s office, just before dinner. He wanted the meeting to begin immediately, but Tonks, Severus, and I agreed to have you enjoy your evening meal beforehand.”

Hermione wetted her lips. “Well, perhaps the weekend we have to go and meet with the goblins, we may go and see them. They live in Knightsbridge,” she said quietly. “Their dental practice is in Kensington, but its closed during the weekends.”

“I think that is a fantastic idea,” Sirius replied with a nod. “Your last day of term is the nineteenth, a fortnight from now. I have an appointment with my account goblin on the thirteenth, if that is agreeable.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll write to my parents in the morning,” she said softly. “Perhaps Professor Snape can give us some Polyjuice. I wouldn’t want either of us getting spotted and potentially abducted by Death Eaters.”

“Quite right; a brilliant idea,” Sirius said, smiling.

Hermione stepped closer to her fiancé, and saw a tremor within him then, leading her to believe that his mind had yet to be completely mended. “It will be all right,” she told him softly, wanting more than anything to be supportive of him. “It has to be all right...”

Sirius smiled. “I’m hoping it will be,” he responded, reaching forward and enveloping Hermione’s hand in his.


	2. The Language of Love

Hermione still felt the sensation of Sirius’s arms around her long after he had left her rooms for the evening. Crookshanks, realizing that his new friend had gone, skulked back into the bedroom to sleep, leaving Hermione to giggle at his childish antics. It was amusing to her when Crookshanks acted in such a manner, but Ron was a different matter entirely. Shaking her head, she walked to her attached bathroom, summoning her Arithmancy text behind her, knowing that she would like to do some more reading in bed later.

Stepping into her bedroom, spotting Crookshanks on her massive four-poster—easily one and a half times the size of the typical ones in the dorms—she banished her book to her bed to lie next to him. She spotted her schoolbag just beside the bed, and realized that Dobby must have brought it in there for her. Although she still wanted house-elves to have rights, she couldn’t deny Dobby small tasks here and there, for he seemed to truly enjoy helping her out, for the wails and hugs to her legs were quite difficult to get out of her mind.

Rolling her shoulders, she stepped into the attached bathroom, wistfully wishing that the hot water would wash her troubles away. However, she thought to herself as she stripped down, nothing in life was truly that easy. She’d learned that the hard way, she reasoned, getting into the shower and permitting the water to hit her.

~*~

Hermione permitted herself a bit of a lie-in the following morning, something she typically only did during the Christmas or summer holidays. Flushing as she remembered what had happened the night before, she dressed quickly, and took care of her morning absolutions before she went out into her sitting room. Summoning at quill, ink, and piece of parchment, she wandered over to her desk and sat down, knowing she had to write quickly, as she and Sirius were due to meet later that morning.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I do hope things at the practice are going well. Mrs. Beckham’s root canal last month did go well, didn’t it? I know she was worried about the expense, because Paul had that tuition check from Cambridge due. I hope her insurance covered a decent amount._

_I’m sorry I haven’t written much lately; I only have myself to blame. I spend so much time writing up those schedules for Harry and Ron tha I hardly have time to adhere to one myself. I won’t stand for anything less than an O on my NEWTs. But, then again, you always knew what a perfectionist I was at heart._

_Headmaster Dumbledore informed me of my betrothal last evening. Harry was betrothed to Professor Snape, and Ron to Nymphadora Tonks..._

Hermione remembered telling her parents about the spirited young Auror during her fifth-year at Hogwarts. However, although they knew the bare bones—and likely suspected that there was more—they didn’t know the full extent of Harry’s relationship with Professor Snape. Shaking her head, Hermione knew that she couldn’t go into it now.

_…_ _and we were most blindsided by the notion that all of our parents had decided who it was we were to marry. The headmaster said it had to do with the Pureblood Regime. It’s an archaic and dangerous method of bonding couples, outlawed when Queen Victoria was on the throne. But, he assured the three of us that we would be protected, now that Minister Shacklebolt and Deputy Minister Moody are in charge._

_I was perplexed at how you could willingly betroth me to a dead man, initially. However, it was quite a surprise to see Sirius in the headmaster’s office last night. Did you know he was alive? I asked him if he had spoken to you yet, and he said he had not. What with his recovery period at St. Mungo’s, there was only so much time he had to speak to anyone._

_Sirius and I will be looking at potential properties to live in at Gringotts next weekend. He tells me that he doesn’t want me to live at Grimmauld, once we’re married. Coupled with his negative memories in those gothic walls, he doesn’t want his mother screaming at me whenever I am attempting to go about my business. Walburga Black was a fearsome woman—I told you about her—who managed to retain herself into portrait form following her death. I’m pleased that Sirius is being so considerate towards the both of us when it comes to where we will live, as well as our way of life, once we’re married._

_I suggested to Sirius that we met one another, once our appointment is concluded. I hope this will not be objectionable to you. We all need to be on the same page, given that your only child is to be married in just a few short weeks. Although I never considered marriage so young, I know I will be happy with Sirius. He cares for me, as I do for him, and a part of me realizes how correct you were in selecting him for me._

_I hope to see you both next week._

_With love, your daughter,_

_Hermione_

Hermione charmed the letter to make sure that no one else would be able to read it, once it left the Hogwarts grounds. Looking outside, she smiled at the notion that it had snowed the night before, and quickly bundled up in her boots, a thick scarf, gloves, and a pair of earmuffs. Her winter cloak completed the ensemble as she rushed out of her rooms, letter and wand tucked in the thick layers of her cloak.

The crisp air tickled her nose as she stepped outside, and found her heart speeding up as she spotted Sirius waiting for her, on the path leading directly to the owlery. Letting out a shriek before she could call it back, Hermione rushed forward, and Sirius pulled her into his arms, spinning her around before kissing her temple.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Hermione flushed, attempting to convince herself that it was merely the cold. “I’m just excited to see you,” she said softly.

Sirius smiled. “I am quite fortunate that Wormtail was the only one unable to break free of Azkaban, and that his memories of the night in question were shown,” he said softly. “Although I am pleased to be a free man, I still fear for you.”

Hermione reached upwards and caressed his face. “You need not fear for me,” she said softly. “I am able to take care of myself...”

“You were certainly capable of holding your own against Dolohov during... That night,” he said, and gave Hermione a sad smile, obviously not wanting to disturb her.

Hermione swallowed; Death Eaters had come out in all directions, to the point where she, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and surprisingly Draco, hadn’t known where to turn. Yaxley had gotten ahold of her while the Carrow siblings dueled Draco and Ginny. Ron was battling with Rowle, and Neville and Luna were facing off with Rookwood and Greyback. Struggling against him, Hermione managed to elbow him in his gut, before breaking away and casting a rather rough Knockback Jinx upon him. It was then that Dolohov had come upon her, and Hermione had successfully used _Confringo_ upon him, weakening him enough for the members of the Order of the Phoenix to take him directly to Azkaban.

“It was nothing so extraordinary,” Hermione told him quietly. “What was truly frightening was when the Dementors showed up without a moments’ notice.”

Sirius looked stunned at that. “I never heard that report...”

“That’s because most of the Aurors had gone to drop off the first round of Death Eaters at the prison,” Hermione explained, gently easing Sirius back onto the path so as they could walk along together. “The remainder of the Order was dealing with the rest, while Harry was battling Riddle with the headmaster and Professor Snape...”

“Did any of them come after you?”

“No, although they weakened Remus considerably, so by the time he went after Greyback to help Luna, it was all too little too late...”

Sirius sighed. “I should have been there...”

Hermione clutched at his hand. “I know it’s not easy to lose someone,” she told him. “You and Harry will have much to discuss about it.”

“What was so frightening about it?” Sirius asked. “Other than the obvious, of course. When they came after me and Harry during your third-year...”

“It was my Patronus which frightened me,” she whispered.

Sirius stopped short. “How could a Patronus frighten you? Harry mentioned to me that yours was an otter. Wasn’t that right?”

“It was an otter,” Hermione said, lowering her eyes. “I had to scour book and even the internet over the summer to try and figure out the proper name for the creature which came out of my wand the night on the astronomy tower...”

“Your Patronus changed?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

“What form did it take?”

“A black wolfdog,” Hermione told him. “I know that your Patronus changes when you feel deep feelings of love for someone, but this was something far rarer. While mine took on the same species as your Patronus, it took on another form of the species. In all my research, it says that, while I feel love for you, I still retain my own personality, so my magic is able to differentiate between the two things.”

“So, what is the conclusion?” Sirius asked.

“By taking on the exact Patronus of the person you love, you have to sacrifice quite a bit of your own identity, and your magic, to fulfill the process,” Hermione explained. “While I don’t have to sacrifice either, my magic adhered to the notion that I am falling in love with you...”

“So what was so frightening?”

“You were dead, or presumed to be,” Hermione whispered as they got to the stone ramp which led to the owlery. “How was I to live completely with the notion that the person my magic had aligned with mine was no longer here? I could not live completely and happily with the knowledge that I was without you...”

Sirius gently eased the pad of his gloved thumb over Hermione’s gloved knuckles. “I am positive your magic would not have reacted in such a manner if there was no hope,” he whispered. He walked up the ramp with Hermione, easily navigating the icy patches so that neither of them took a tumble. “Magic works in mysterious ways, as you well know.”

Hermione sighed, squeezing his hand as she stepped into the owlery, before letting it go and looking at the owls on offer that morning. She smiled at a smoky-gray one, who twittered excitedly as she entered. Stepping forward, and smoothed its feathers and chuckled as it gently nipped at her finger. “How’s a trip to Knightsbridge sound?”

The owl fluttered animatedly at the prospect, and Hermione handed the letter over, which the owl caught up in its break. Bowing its head to Hermione, it flapped towards the window, almost matching the scenery around it as it flew out of sight. Hermione watched it go, and felt the tension ease out of her body as Sirius came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and rested his head upon her shoulder.

“Yes,” she said at last, looking down at the snowy terrain below as she leaned deeper into Sirius’s embrace. “Magic does indeed work in mysterious ways.”

~*~

After an entire weekend with Sirius, Hermione was relieved to know that the headmaster had requested that Madam Rosmerta had given Sirius permission to use her personal Floo so that he could visit her in her quarters at night. Ron also got to utilize the headmaster’s Floo to go and see Tonks at her own flat in the East End of London, while Harry would use his invisibility cloak to go into the dungeons to see Professor Snape. Hermione was pleased that Sirius would sit at one end of her couch, Crookshanks in his lap, and his nose in one of the many books she had collected over the years.

“Have you ever considered becoming an Animagus?” Sirius asked one evening, when Hermione had just finished her latest Transfiguration essay.

Hermione smiled at her fiancé as she picked up her copy of _The Book of Charms and Spells – Grade Seven_. “I had to do something over the summer,” she said quietly.

Sirius blinked. “I thought you were seeing Ron this summer.”

“And I was,” Hermione confirmed. “But when he was off with his brother, plus Harry and Ginny, playing Quidditch, I had to do something to occupy my time.” She brushed the spine of the tome she held with her fingertips. “Didn’t take too long to accomplish, really. Just wish I’d thought of doing it before what happened last June...”

“Don’t blame yourself for the sickness that Riddle inflicted upon his followers, Hermione,” said Sirius gently, as he continually stroked a purring Crookshanks in his lap. “And don’t find fault in what you did or didn’t do that night. Harry tells me often how heroic both you and Ron were. He says he couldn’t have done it without you.”

Hermione shrugged. “I just want to be sure he’s all right,” she said softly, holding her book to her chest for leverage. “They made us all see mind healers after that.”

“It’s a standard practice,” Sirius told her. “When I wasn’t with the mediwitches, wizards, or the healers—and when Mad-Eye could spare me—I saw a mind healer.”

Hermione looked up. “You did?”

“I did,” Sirius confirmed. “There’s no shame in it, Hermione. In fact, many people believe that it’s beneficial to speak with a medical professional once trauma happens in your life. As much as your friends and family are capable of supporting you, mind healers know how to do and say things that those closest to us don’t.”

“What did the mind healer find?” Hermione asked.

“Healer Hawkstone said that it’s possible that my mind does remember what happened to me, once I slipped behind the veil, but that I haven’t healed emotionally enough to process it yet. As such, I need to continue seeing him for the foreseeable future, to ensure that if the memories, if they are there and do come back, I have the necessary medical support.”

Hermione reached out then and gently took ahold of Sirius’s hand. “I know that I can’t help in the same way a mind healer can, Sirius, but please know that I’m here for you, too.”

Sirius smiled, taking Hermione’s hand in his. “I know that, Hermione, but thanks so much all the same. It’s good to be reassured every now and again.”

Hermione returned his smile. “It is.”

“How are your assignments coming?”

Hermione banished her books and inched towards him; she had taken off her shoes, but hadn’t changed out of her school uniform yet, so the stockings, skirt, button-down shirt, and cardigan still remained, with the Gryffindor insignia stitched upon it. Hermione curled against Sirius, feeling herself flush as he wrapped his arm around her body, never missing a beat in his stroking of Crookshanks. “All caught up,” she told him. “The Transfiguration assignment isn’t due until after Christmas.”

Sirius peered down at Hermione. “Minerva assigned it so early?”

“No,” Hermione said, inhaling Sirius’s scent of the frosty outdoors as she shook her head. “My dear Head of House realized early on how much I like to work ahead. She finds it easier to assign my lessons early; this way, Draco and I have a better idea of how we can order the Prefects about for their patrols, as well as helping the other students who may need us.”

“Draco gets his assignments early as well?”

“Yes. Professor Snape would have been made his guardian, if he had not turned seventeen before last term ended,” Hermione explained. “Now he is merely doing it as a formality. He spoke on Draco’s behalf, once the announcement of his appointment as Head Boy was made, to ensure that Draco had a set schedule for studying for his NEWTs.”

“I hear that Draco and Ginny are now a pair...”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Professor Snape shielded Draco from taking the mark last year, and, as such, Draco did not have to attend meetings. Draco became our friend, once he told us that he did not wish to follow in Mr. Malfoy’s footsteps. Ginny was seeing Dean last term, but, Dean realized his affections lay elsewhere...”

“With your friend Seamus,” Sirius said.

Hermione looked up at Sirius and smiled. “Exactly. Anyhow, once Dean told Ginny about his feelings for Seamus, Ginny, who initially took it rather well, was still slightly smarting, as she truly cared for Dean, and believed his feelings for her were the same. However, Draco comforted Ginny and, by the middle of May, they were an item.”

Sirius’s lips seemed to twitch automatically into a smile, and Hermione felt it, for her head was tucked beneath his chin. “I take it that there was some backlash from the Weasley family when word got out... Ron likely wrote home about it, via Pigwidgeon, I’d reckon...”

Hermione enfolded her hand into Sirius’s free one. “Of course he did,” she told him, snuggling closer to him. “Molly sent him a Howler the following week.”

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius chuckled.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I could see it flying in with Pig, and I could tell Ron was hoping that it was for Ginny. He was sorely disappointed, however.”

“What did Molly say to Ron?”

“Told him to mind his own business when it came to Ginny’s romantic relationships,” Hermione said, trying not to laugh at the memory of the look on Ron’s face. “In fact, Draco had gone to the Burrow when it became apparent that his feelings for Ginny were reciprocated. With both the headmaster and Professor Snape’s support, he confided in Molly and Arthur that he was firmly positioned on the side of the Light, and truly cared for Ginny. They believed him, and gave their blessing for their relationship.”

Sirius gently pulled Hermione closer. “I’m just glad that we will be facing your mother and father together,” he said softly.

“They must have known you somewhat, to betroth me to you in the first place,” Hermione remarked softly.

“I briefly spoke to your father when he brought you to Grimmauld before your fifth-year,” Sirius said, and Hermione turned to look at him as he spoke. “You ran upstairs to see Ron and Ginny; this was before the Dementor attack in Little Whinging, and before Harry’s arrival.”

“It was a lonely summer because of Headmaster Dumbledore pretty much telling us not to communicate with Harry,” Hermione replied, burying her face in Sirius’s jacket. “I wanted to write to him so badly, and apologized to him for months about it. It took him quite a bit to fully understand that Ron and I wanted to write, and did...” She bit her lip, deliberately lowering her voice as she continued. “The headmaster took our letters...”

Sirius positioned Hermione so that they were facing one another and Crookshanks jumped down with an annoyed sound, running off into the bedroom. “I don’t understand. Albus told the pair of you not to write, and you did it anyway?”

“Of course we did—he’s our best friend,” Hermione replied, wrapping her arms around herself, the fabric of her Weasley jumper from last Christmas tickling her cheeks. “We tried everything we had at our disposal—even trying to put our letters into the Floo Network,” she went on, with a slight shake of her head. “Fred and George even loaned us some of their inventions, but whatever we tried, the headmaster was one step ahead of us. The reprimands got so great that my parents stayed in the same room with me whenever I had to write an essay, for fear that I would disobey again and write Harry...”

“Did Albus ever give Harry the letters, or properly explain to him why you and Ron couldn’t write to him?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. He was preoccupied with Umbridge and the DA fifth-year, and then with his copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ sixth-year. It only made sense to Ron and me when we found out that it was Professor Snape’s textbook, and that they truly had feelings for one another...”

Sirius sighed. “Albus is a manipulative old codger, to be sure, but I doubt that his reasons are malicious in nature...”

Hermione sighed. “I hope not. He knows what it’s like to have love torn from him, so he’s not likely to inflict that kind of pain on anyone...”

Sirius’s eyes snapped to Hermione’s. “You know about him and Grindelwald?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. It’s why he could not kill him.”

Sirius reached out and cupped Hermione’s cheek. “Part of me wishes that I could whisk you away from all of this, Hermione. All to protect you, until the Death Eaters are found and captured in an appropriate manner...”

Hermione leaned into his palm. “You know as well as I do that they’d leave no stone unturned when it comes to finding any of us.”

Sirius leaned closer, pressing his forehead to Hermione’s. “We will truly be safe when we find a property together; the goblins have assured me that the wards will be as complex and as safe as they are here at Hogwarts.”

Hermione shivered in Sirius’s arms. “I’m so afraid, Sirius,” she whispered. “Now that we’ve gotten you back, I’m so afraid that they’ll...”

“No one is taking me away from you willingly, Hermione,” Sirius told her firmly. “And, if it gets too dangerous, Albus has already come up with an alternative.”

Hermione swallowed. “What’s the alternative?”

“Hiding,” Sirius said.

Hermione blinked. “Hiding? How do you mean?”

Sirius deliberately lowered his voice. “We would all be given fake identities, and would be transported somewhere outside the Wizarding World,” he explained. “There are warded properties all over the world, both in and out of the Wizarding World, that are under local ministry control. You and I have been assigned to Australia, Harry and Severus to New Zealand, and Ron and Tonks to the States.”

Hermione clutched at Severus. “Australia?” she whispered, shaking her head. “But what about my parents, Sirius? Surely, the Death Eaters could find them and hold them hostage, all in an effort to lure me to them...”

“Albus has assured me that those close to us would be relocated as well,” Sirius told her, not letting her go. “Molly and Arthur, plus all their children and significant others, would be relocated to safety. Harry even requested asylum for the Dursley’s.”

Hermione sputtered. “The Dursley’s?!” she cried out. “After all they put him through and did to him, Harry would honestly want—”

“He requested it personally,” Sirius told her softly. “Severus himself checked him over for the Imperius Curse and Veritaserum. He was fully in his right mind when he asked Albus, who, of course, consented immediately.”

Hermione buried her face in Sirius’s shoulder. “He’s a far better person than me...”

“Oh no, I doubt that,” Sirius replied with a chuckle, pulling her back from him. “Now, before we got distracted, you were telling me about becoming an Animagus...”

Hermione grinned sheepishly at him then, her cheeks flushing pink. “Were you interested in seeing it?” she asked.

Sirius smiled back. “I am.”

Hermione nodded. “Very well. I call her Warg,” she told him, before moving from the couch and onto the carpet below. Concentrating, her pale, elegant hands became dark and furry paws, while raven-black fur grew out of her entire body, and her ears relocated themselves onto her head. Her nose became dark and wet, although her eyes remained the same, staring up at Sirius, as she let out a low howl.

“Merlin,” Sirius breathed, reaching forward tentatively, and Hermione, as Warg, promptly lowered her head so as her fiancé could pet her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and Warg’s eyes locked with his, a rare kind of understanding passing between the two of them, in the ancient language known as love.

~*~

Hermione was relieved that Professor Snape had some Polyjuice Potion in his stores, and she and Sirius took two vials with them. Her parents knew they would be expecting strangers later that afternoon, while the goblins were merely check their wants to verify their identities. Once the potion had done the trick, Sirius and Hermione Apparated from Hogsmeade into Diagon Alley, and went straight to Gringotts for Sirius’s appointment.

Sirius kept Hermione’s hand tucked in his as they walked along. “Odbert has been the official goblin for the Black vaults and accounts as far back as I remember,” he explained to his fiancée, and Hermione listened intently, in her new form of a willowy, black-haired witch. “So glad that goblin magic can see through all this,” he muttered, gesturing at his shock of blond hair, his new brown eyes worried.

Hermione’s new silver eyes blinked, roving over Diagon Alley for any sense of danger as they approached the white stone building. “They’re powerful creatures,” she said quietly as they went up the steps. “Surely they’ll be able to deduce that all this was just a precaution.”

Stepping through the double doors and into the highly-polished marble foyer, Hermione yet again noticed that the diamond-cut chandelier twinkled with the lights of the fine oil lamps scattered along the wall. As they approached the desk, where she presumed Odbert sat, the goblin looked up, his black eyes peering at them closely, with fine silver hair swept back to prevent distraction.

“Ah, Mr. Black,” he said, nodding his head, holding his hand out for Sirius’s wand.

Sirius complied, handing over the wooden stick.

“And... Miss Hermione Granger, your betrothed, very good, very good,” Odbert said, a deep nod once he handed Sirius’s wand back and examined Hermione’s. “Wonderful,” he confirmed, and handed Hermione’s wand back. “If you would be so good as to follow me...”

Hermione watched as Odbert hopped down from his stool, and meandered towards the back corridor, where numerous doors greeted their sight on both sides. Taking Sirius’s lead, they followed Odbert into one of the rooms, and were gestured to the crimson-colored velvet love seat, while Odbert summoned some documents with a wave of his clawed hand. Hermione kept quiet, knowing that this was Sirius’s appointment and should only speak when spoken to directly, as a sign of respect.

Odbert straightened up then. “Here are some of the Black family properties, and some that Albus Dumbledore handpicked for you, to be given over to you in exchange once Grimmauld Place is no longer in your possession,” came his informative growl. “We could dissolve your family allegiance to the property today, as long as you have taken out all the possessions from within the house that you wish to keep.”

“I have, and I would appreciate that, Odbert,” Sirius said with a bow. “Thank you.”

“Very well,” Odbert said, pushing a document towards Sirius. He offered him an eagle feather quill, which Sirius and Hermione noticed was in gold ink—the most magical-laced ink of the Wizarding World—and held it out to him. “Just sign at the bottom there.”

Sirius took the quill and signed, a wave of relief seeming to come over him as the magicks worked their miraculousness.

“How do you feel?” Hermione whispered to him.

“Lighter, considerably,” Sirius replied, squeezing her hand as they watched Odbert put the document away to be sorted later.

Odbert then pushed the other documents towards them both, which contained photographs and other information about the properties available to them. “With your fortune restored, plus the return of Grimmauld Place into our keeping, you can afford all of these houses and more, Mr. Black,” the goblin growled. “Please, look to your leisure. If you have any questions, I shall be right here to answer any of them.”

Sirius took ahold of the documents, sitting back on the love seat so that Hermione could see them as well, and went slowly, only turning to the next when Hermione indicated that she’d finished with the one they’d been looking at previously. There was a townhouse in Central London; a Victorian in West Sussex; several manors in Oxshott, New Forest, and Bath; a luxury flat in Chelsea; a terraced property in Holland Park; and, finally, a beautiful cottage located in Chipping Norton, which Hermione gasped at when she saw for the first time.

The other properties had been beautiful in their own way, of course, but the townhouse was much too stifling for their needs, the Victorian was far too traditional, the manors were oppressive, the luxury flat was too populated, and the terraced property was much too exposed for their liking. It was the cottage, however, which had they homey feel of the Burrow, although done up in a most classic style that both Hermione and Sirius seemed to enjoy. Hermione took note of the gardens, where she could envision her children playing; the library, where she could picture her and Sirius working together; and, finally, the kitchen, where she could see those nearest and dearest to them gathering for delicious meals.

“I think we have come to a decision, Odbert,” Sirius said, clasping Hermione’s hand as he handed over the documentation for the cottage.

“Yes, a fine choice,” Odbert praised, nodding to himself. “The pair of you may sign the magical contract today, if you wish. The house and land would immediately be in your name, and the wards would be established to only let the three of us in. You will, of course, be able to authorize who you wish to have unlimited access to bypassing the wards, and such a thing can be done today, if you wished it.”

“Yes, thank you, Odbert,” Sirius said with a nod.

Odbert summoned another parchment, and again dipped the eagle feather quill into the gold ink, before handing it over to Sirius. Once Sirius had signed, Hermione took ahold of the quill and signed her name as well. Odbert nodded with approval, snapping his fingers, and the document disappeared. “It will go into our files, with a copy being sent to the ministry. Your surname upon the document will, of course, change automatically when you and Sirius become husband and wife, Miss Granger,” he said, “to whatever name you sign upon your marriage document.”

“I shall be taking Sirius’s name,” Hermione said firmly, and Odbert’s eyes gleamed at the finality of Hermione’s tone.

“You’ve got yourself a fine witch, there,” Odbert said, turning to Sirius. “Pity if you ever let her go.”

Sirius took ahold of Hermione’s hand, and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m never planning on it, unless she herself wishes to be set free,” he whispered, and Hermione’s found that she glowed beneath his loving gaze.

“I will be free, the day I become your wife,” Hermione said softly, wishing that Sirius would kiss her, but he was a man of his word, and merely pressed his lips to her forehead. There was, however, an insurmountable amount of love there, and she shut her eyes, savoring the sensation of it all as Sirius finalized things with Odbert for their future.


End file.
